


Like Likes Like

by opalmatrix



Category: Pet Shop of Horrors, xxxHoLic
Genre: Community: springkink, Crossover, Food, Gen, Possessive Behavior, Rivalry, Tea, greed - Freeform, sweet tooth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-09
Updated: 2010-03-09
Packaged: 2017-10-07 20:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/68820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/opalmatrix/pseuds/opalmatrix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This time, it's not a spirit that follows Watanuki home.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> Written for springkink VIII. Beta by the marvelous [**avierra**](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Avierra/pseuds/Avierra) and the perceptive [** smillaraaq **](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Smillaraaq/). Includes vague references to the end of the original _Petshop_ series.
> 
> **Prompt:** xXxholic/Pet Shop of Horrors, Yuuko and Count D: a chance encounter - "Four cubes of sugar in my tea, please."

Himawari had a very serious expression on her face as she tasted the pastry. Watanuki thought she looked utterly adorable.

"I think your baba au rhum was nicer than this one, Watanuki-kun. This one's a little more dry."

Watanuki positively glowed. "I'm going to try to make some chocolate cups today for Yuuko-san's tea - those ones labelled 'Chocolate Martha' in the case on the end. I can bring you some to have with your lunch tomorrow, Himawari-chan."

"Only if you're sure it's not too much trouble, Watanuki-kun."

"It's no trouble at all, Himawari-chan!"

Doumeki looked up suddenly from the remains of his Napoleon. "I'll have tamago no takarabukuro for lunch tomorrow."

"_I didn't ask you!_ " shrieked Watanuki, instantly turning red with fury.

Himawari giggled and then glanced at her watch. "Oh, look at the time! I have so much homework ... ."

The boys followed her out of the Cafe Iris. After a minute, the customer at the corner table - a tall but fine-boned man in long, dark, high-collared robe - did the same.

 

The shop was clean at last, and Watanuki's chocolate delicacies were chilling in the refrigerator while he cleaned up the inevitable mess. Yuuko had yet to make an appearance - napping, Maru and Moro had informed him - and Watanuki was elbow-deep in dishwater when he heard the shop doorbell's sweet chime.

"The door!" said Maru helpfully.

"_The door!_" Moro added, unnecessarily.

There was still no sign of Yuuko. Watanuki hurried out of the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel.

"Good afternoon, sir," he said, trying to sound and look helpful.

The customer, who had been gazing at some figurines on a shelf, turned around and froze, apparently staring at Watanuki. He was tall and slender, dressed in a long Chinese robe of deep blue silk brocade. Watanuki could hear him taking in a deep breath: the man's nostrils flared. "Is that ... chocolate ganache?"

His eyes were not the same color. One was gold, and the other deep violet.

Watanuki became aware that he was staring, and then glanced down at the streaks and smudges of chocolate on his apron and blushed. He really needed to improve his piping technique. "Er, yes. I was cooking. May I help you?"

"So you really do make French pastries?" asked the customer, taking a step closer. Watanuki was increasingly conscious of the messiness of the apron and the towel, and the proximity of the man's expensive-looking garment.

"Um, yes - oh! Weren't you in the cafe?"

"Yes," breathed the customer, softly. He reached out a beautifully manicured hand and tilted Watanuki's chin upward, looking closely at his face. Watanuki was instantly conscious of the cloth tied around his head and the spatters on his glasses. "Well ... how interesting! You are -"

"Well, how interesting!" echoed a familiar voice from the back of the shop. "What exactly is going on here?"

The customer released Watanuki and stepped back. Yuuko was, as usual, elaborately and eccentrically dressed, in a wrapped and pleated sleeveless gown of a deep blue that exactly matched the embroidery on the customer's robe and also, incidentally, set off the creamy skin of the generous amount of bosom revealed by the neckline. Ropes of pearls wrapped her neck, and she carried a peacock feather fan. She gave the stranger one thorough head-to-toe glance, followed by a surprisingly steely smile. "I see."

"Oh," said the customer, a faint flush appearing along just under his exquisite cheekbones. "Really, I meant no harm. It's just so unusual to find one so young who can make a proper ganache."

"So that was all? Watanuki-kun, where did you meet this gentleman?"

"Yuuko-san, he just arrived here. But I think he was at the cafe where I stopped for a snack with Himawari-chan and Doumeki this afternoon."

"Indeed. How fortunate that fate led your feet here, Count D."

The man's head came up, and his mismatched eyes were wide. He opened his mouth and then closed it without saying a word.

"Or perhaps it was not entirely _hitsuzen_ after all?"

"Ahhh - you're correct, I followed him. The girl was praising his baba au rhum, and I hoped that he worked in a patisserie. But then when I saw him here and realized ... ."

"That Watanuki Kimihiro is _my_ employee? Perhaps I should introduce myself, Count. I am Ichihara Yuuko."

The fellow was actually twisting his slippered feet. Watanuki felt rather sorry for him, even if he _was_ pretty creepy. Yuuko smiled - sweetly, this time. "Watanuki, clean up and serve us some tea, please."

When Watanuki came out with the first trayful (in a fresh apron and carefully cleaned glasses), the two of them were seated at the little tea table, chatting. Count D seemed to have recovered and looked so much at home that it was almost as though he were part of the shop's collection. "But I would never have expected to be asked to stay for tea!" he said, as Watanuki placed the European-style teapot and accoutrements on the table. The Count sniffed delicately at the aroma of Oolong wafting from the teapot and then looked bereft as he surveyed the rest of the service. "Might I please have some sugar?"

_Sugar!_ thought Watanuki.

"Of course," said Yuuko, easily, and smiled at Watanuki. Watanuki gritted his teeth and clutched his tray as he went back for the cake stand and the seldom-used sugar bowl. He set the pastries carefully in the center of the table and obstinately set the sugar bowl by Yuuko. He thought that she flicked an amused glance at him, but it was so fast, he couldn't be certain. He retreated to behind the screen that hid the kitchen doorway and proceeded to eavesdrop shamelessly.

"How many lumps, Count D?"

"Four," said the Count and chuckled as he passed her his cup. "Four lumps of sugar in my tea."

"Really!" Yuuko raised her eyebrows, poured out the tea, delicately picked out four lumps of sugar, and dropped them into the cup. "Predators should not eat sugar, should they?"

Count D's eyes widened as he took back the offered cup, and then he dropped his glance demurely as he stirred it. "What a thing to say," he murmured.

"Mokona can eat sugar!" interrupted a voice from under the table. A second later, Mokona bounced up onto one of the unoccupied chairs and seemed to look meaningfully at the sugar bowl. Count D glanced up and then stared. After a second, his gaze sharpened. Suddenly, Yuuko's comment about predators seemed to make much more sense.

"Count," said Yuuko, firmly. "Try one of these apricot tartlets."

"Might I examine ... ?"

"No!" said Mokona, and it bounced off the chair, under the table, and past Watanuki into the kitchen. Watanuki knew exactly how it felt.

"Count? A tartlet? Or one of these _very_ fresh chocolate cups?"

The Count looked mournfully at the kitchen doorway. "Yes," he said. "Both."

For a moment, the only sound was munching. Then: "Oh! This pastry is exquisite! And the chocolate sponge at the base of the cup - just enough syrup in it, and the ganache ... !"

"Yes. Watanuki is very talented. He cooks savory dishes beautifully as well."

"How lucky you are to have obtained him."

There was a dreadful pause.

"Count D. Watanuki is a living being. He works for me, yes. But to imply that he is an _object_ ... ."

The visitor stiffened. "A human being! Do you know what human beings are doing to this planet, and to the animals who live on it?"

"Human beings are also animals, Count. And every one of them has some value."

"As does even the smallest insect!"

"If you really felt that way, how do you dare walk in the open without a mask over your nose and mouth to prevent yourself from breathing in insects? There is a sect in India that does so, you know. A sect of _human beings_."

"Human beings are more willfully cruel than any animal could be."

"And also more unconsciously kind than any animal could be. I think you have experienced this yourself."

There was another silence, this one distinctly unhappy.

"Why did you leave him behind, Count D?"

Watanuki could not resist peering around the edge of the screen. Count D was drooping in his seat like an unwatered houseplant, staring sadly at his plate. "It would never have been the same, now that he knew what I was," he said.

"Sameness is not necessarily a virtue. Do you have a wish?"

The Count's head came up, and he stared at her silently for a few moments. "What's past is past ... isn't it?"

"I have been called the Witch of Time and Space. Many things are possible, but for a wish to be granted, an appropriate price must be paid."

The Count swallowed. "I don't think ... I have anything to give that might be of comparable value."

"You might be surprised. And for that matter, your real wish may not be what you think it is. Another tartlet?"

He passed his plate, his eyes unfocused. Yuuko slipped not only a tartlet but another chocolate cup onto it and passed it back. The Count started to eat again, mechanically at first, but the taste seemed to revive him. He sighed. "These are really very good."

"This need not be your only visit to us, you know. Who knows what Watanuki will have made, next time? And perhaps Mokona will be feeling a bit more friendly."

Watanuki felt something warm and furry trembling against his ankle. Mokona was hiding behind his feet. But the Count was almost smiling again. "Talking to you, Yuuko-san, is almost like talking to one of my own kind."

"I'm not. But I'm pleased that you can feel that way. More tea?"

"Thank you. It's excellent tea."

"I can't imagine how you can tell, with all that sugar."

The Count laughed, gently. Yuuko smiled sweetly. They sipped their tea. Together, they looked like an art print. Watanuki felt slightly ill. Mokona scurried into the pantry and hid behind the rice bin.

Yuuko shifted the empty cake stand with one manicured fingertip. "Shall I send for more cakes?"

The Count shook his head. "I should go. My ... companions will be wanting dinner."

"Until next time, then. If that is your wish."

The Count was very still. "What ... price would I need to pay?"

"Don't look so concerned. You have a nine-tailed fox living with you? So do I. They might enjoy company of their own kind. Please bring him along on your next visit."

He relaxed and smiled. "Of course."

Watanuki quickly fetched the tray and cleared the table as soon as they walked to the door of the shop. After Yuuko had shown the Count out, she came to the door of the kitchen where Watanuki was washing up and lounged against the doorjamb, as close to frowning as Watanuki had ever seen. He pretended not to notice and swished the teaspoons around in the soapy dishwater a little more vigorously than was absolutely necessary. Mokona crept out from the pantry and sat on his feet.

"You're both being very silly. And selfish."

Watanuki rinsed off the teaspoons and put them carefully in the drainer. Mokona flicked its ears, hitting him in the shins.

"Well. You know what's perfect after a nice tea?"

"Liquor," muttered Watanuki.

"Of course. And a hot bath! Please bring me the Isojiman sake. And some snacks!"

She pushed off the doorway and was gone in a whirl of pearls and silk. Watanuki sighed and dried his hands. He fetched the sake and some salted nuts and dried squid and arranged them attractively on a clean tray. Mokona bounded up onto the counter. "Squid!" it demanded.

Watanuki tossed it a couple of handfuls of shreds and helped himself to a handful of peanuts. For a moment, they munched in companionable silence.

"I don't like him," Mokona announced.

Watanuki rubbed his knuckles gently on the back of its skull and picked up the laden tray. "Neither do I," he said.

 


End file.
